


Best of Me

by obscureenthusiast



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur's a prat as per frikkin usual, He's really cute and smol, It's a university AU, Multi, Photographer Merlin, Slow Burn, University AU, everything is gonna cook for a while, it's like a crock pot, more character and ship tags to be added later, ngl this is gonna be pretty slow burn for everybody, no magic, we'll make it through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscureenthusiast/pseuds/obscureenthusiast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is a journalism student, he's just trying to graduate on time. Then everything changes when his best friend Gwen gets a scholarship to a new university. And then he meets a certain Arthur Pendragon (who he would rather not see ever again, frankly) and his whole life takes a turn. And if he wants to graduate, he and Arthur are gonna have to get real friendly. (At least for a little while.)</p><p>[Title is from the song "All I Want" by Kodaline]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, this first chapter is a gift for my best friend (ily), who is very far away and this was the fastest way I could think of to send a hug over the internet. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

The sunlight peaking through the breaks between clouds made the day look warmer than it really was. From indoors, Merlin had no doubt, it looked inviting. But a steady wind cut through the air, necessitating a heavy peacoat and scarf. It was late summer, but this weekend in particular had been as rainy and cold as fall. The weather report said it was supposed to get warmer come the next day or two, and today at least the rain had gone away.

“Which building are we supposed to be heading to?” he asked, stuffing his hands deeper into his coat pockets and turning to address his frazzled-looking companion.

Gwen was looking around, her brow furrowed. Some of her curly hair was coming loose from her bun and the breeze left her cheeks and nose blushed pink. “Umm,” she said, slowing her steps to a stop.

Merlin stopped, too, looking around with amusement. 

He wasn’t too worried about finding their way. It was a university campus, not a labyrinth. The clean, cobblestone paths and brick buildings around them were picturesque (Merlin was glad he’d thought to bring his camera) and almost completely deserted. With the summer holiday for another month, the only people left on campus were summer school students and those who had to file paperwork for the upcoming year.

Of course, Gwen fell into the second category. The only problem was that they couldn’t find the proper building.

“This way, I think,” Gwen said, pointing across the courtyard and leading the way.

Merlin smiled and followed her, his hands still tucked into his pockets, his camera bag slung over one shoulder as he walked. 

“Administration and student…” Gwen said in a quiet voice, trailing off before she finished reading the sign on the side of one of the brick buildings nearby. She nodded, smiling, “Yes, this is the one.”

She opened the door, holding it a moment for Merlin to enter, then walked to the front desk. Merlin let his eyes trail around the room as he followed her more slowly to the desk. Average office space. For one of the finest universities in the country, it was a little underwhelming, to say the least.

“Um, Merlin?” 

He blinked and turned to Gwen, walking over to her, “Yeah?”

“Well, it’s just,” Gwen nodded to the woman behind the desk, “she says I’ve got some other forms and things to fill out, it’s gonna take about a half an hour?” She shrugged, “You don’t have to stay with me, I can just call whenever I’m done?”

Merlin raised his eyebrows, “You sure?”

Gwen smiled, “Yeah, sure, go get yourself some tea or take pictures or something, I don’t want you sitting around twiddling your thumbs,” she stopped, frowning, “Not that… not that you would be twiddling your thumbs if you wanted to stay, I just,” she looked down, taking a breath, her eyes closed as she apparently tried to sort out the least problematic way of putting it, “I don’t want you to be bored.”

Merlin smiled, chuckling a little, “I get what you’re saying, Gwen, you’re fine,” he took a step back, “I’m gonna head to that coffee shop, you know the--”

“The one we passed by, next to the student bookstore?”

“Yep!” Merlin nodded, his hand already on the door handle.

Gwen waved a little, “Alright, I’ll catch up in a bit!”

Merlin returned the wave and exited into the wind again (he mourned the loss of the warm indoors). He turned to follow the path that he and Gwen had come up originally, following the signs to the bookstore. He kept his steps brisk, the idea of a warm cup of tea encouraging him on. 

But he slowed to a stop outside the entrance to the coffee shop, his eyes caught suddenly by the way the ivy was crawling along the bricks around the old-fashioned-looking plaque which read “Dragon’s Den Cafe”. The sun was somewhat shielded by the clouds, diffusing the light over the whole thing very nice and evenly.

Of course, even as he was noticing all these facts, his hand was digging into his bag for his camera. He slung the strap around his neck and took off the lens cap, tucking it into his pocket. 

After snapping a couple of test shots, he adjusted a few of the settings and took a couple more pictures. Satisfied with the adjustments he had made, he backed up a few paces and tried a different angle. The plaque and the ivy and the light reflecting off the cafe windows, with just the slightest glimpse of the outdoor tables and chairs off to the side. It was nice enough. One could almost be fooled that it was still warm and summery from the photos. 

Merlin stopped to check out the shots he had gotten, frowning a little. 

“Hey!” a (not angry, but definitely not friendly) voice shouted.

Merlin’s eyes snapped up from looking at his camera screen as he noticed the blond guy now exiting the coffee shop and walking towards him.

“Who?” Merlin glanced behind himself to make sure there was no one else, “ _Me_?” 

The guy stopped, his arms crossed, directly in front of Merlin, “Um, yes. You.”

“What about me?” Merlin asked, frowning his confusion.

The guy looked pointedly at the camera, then back at Merlin’s face, “What’re you taking pictures for?”

Merlin shrugged, “Nothing, I’m… I’m just taking pictures.”

“Yeah, well, I’m _in_ those pictures, so I’m--”

“You’re not in these pictures,” Merlin said (he didn’t really mean to interrupt, he was just so surprised.)

The guy raised his eyebrows, “Really? I was sitting right there,” he turned and pointed at one of the large front windows, “minding my own business and then you walked up and started taking photos.”

“Yeah, of the _vines_ ,” Merlin pointed at the side of the building with the plaque. Honestly, who did this guy think he was that he thought that people were just walking up to take pictures of him?

“Show me, then,” the guy said flatly.

Merlin scoffed, smiling despite himself at how crazy this guy sounded, “I don’t need to show you anything.”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” the guy asked (he seemed actually agitated that Merlin didn’t know, which only forced the photographer’s smile to grow.)

“Besides the world’s largest prat?” Merlin asked. (Ok, that one may or may not have been called for.)

The guy’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he gestured vaguely around him, “Ever heard of Uther Pendragon?”

Merlin shrugged, still smiling, “What are you, then? His intern who fetches coffee?”

“No, I’m his son.”

It was like he’d just walked face-first into a wall. Merlin’s smile disappeared and he looked the blond guy up and down.

The guy smiled in a _much_ too smug manner and continued, “Arthur Pendragon. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”

Merlin bit his lip to keep the snarky remark he wanted to make from escaping his lips and merely nodded.

Arthur Pendragon, heir to the entirety of Pendragon Industries, the multi-billion dollar company, and son of world-renowned businessman Uther Pendragon, raised his eyebrows at Merlin, the smug smile still on his face as he said (in what Merlin thought was the most condescending tone he’d ever heard), “Now, I don’t know what stupid gossip blog you run, but I’d like to keep my picture off of it.”

Merlin scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I don’t work for a _gossip blog_ , you idiot, I didn’t even know what you looked like before today!”

“Then prove it to me! Show me the pictures and this will all be cleared up in no time,” Arthur said.

Glowering at the stupid blond billionaire, Merlin sighed and then looked back down at his camera screen. He stepped closer to Arthur so that he could easily watch as Merlin slowly went back through all the pictures of the cafe he had taken.

“See, right there,” Arthur said, pointing at the screen.

Merlin shook his head, “No, that’s literally just glare from the sun.”

“No, no, no, you can clearly see my face.”

“ _Where_?” 

“Right _there_ ,” Arthur pointed again.

Merlin zoomed in on the section of the photo, sighing and shaking his head.

Alright, so, _maybe_ that was Arthur’s face. But it was so dark that it could literally have been _anyone_. It could be a _lamp_. No one would look at that and say “oh, yeah, that’s Arthur Pendragon, alright, mmmhmmm, yep.”

“Well, go on, delete it,” Arthur said, looking at Merlin expectantly.

“I don’t have to delete anything!” Merlin said, indignant, “You said to let you _look_ at the photos, I never agreed to delete any of them just because you told me to!”

Arthur nodded, “True, you didn’t, but, umm…” he brushed a hand along his chin, as if deep in thought (a laughable prospect in Merlin’s mind), “You know, I never promised _you_ that I wouldn’t get my lawyer to sue your ass for using my picture without permission.”

Merlin stared at Arthur for a moment, totally shocked. 

Shrugging, the blond said, “It’s your call.”

No, actually, it wasn’t. And the smug bastard knew it, too. Merlin sighed loudly and turned the camera around to show Arthur as he deleted the photo. 

“There. Are we done here?” he asked.

Arthur nodded, the smile more smug than ever before, “Of course,” he responded, then turned back around to walk back into the coffee shop. 

Merlin followed him because if there was _ever_ a time for a nice cup of tea, it was right now. Awkwardness be damned, he was going to get his tea. 

And Arthur _did_ turn around and give Merlin a strange look, but he said nothing and walked over to the table he had been sitting at (as he’d said, right at the front window) and start to collect his coat and backpack. Merlin hadn’t even realized that the ridiculous blond had run outside without _any of his stuff_. 

Trying to ignore Arthur and shake off the entire encounter, Merlin walked to the barista counter, looking over the menu quickly while he put his camera back in his bag.

“Hey there, what can I get for ya today?” the guy behind the counter said cheerily.

Merlin smiled, still looking at the menu, “Yeah, um, can I just get a… a green tea? Hot,” he took his first actual look at the barista now (all the time previous had been either on Arthur or the menu) and… _wow._ Ok. 

The guy grinned, turning away (thank _goodness_ , he couldn’t see Merlin staring now), “Sure thing!” he said, still just as cheery. 

Merlin _tried_ not to stare, but, honestly, this guy looked like the type you’d find at a _gym_ or out _climbing a cliffside_ or (he embarrassed himself at the thought and finally tore his eyes away) jumping out of a giant cake wearing tear-away pants. 

Honestly, he was a mountain of a man, taller than Merlin by what looked to be almost a half a foot and his arms (he wore a sleeveless shirt below his apron and _boy_ did the look suit him) were bigger around than Merlin’s legs (probably).

While the barista worked on his order, Merlin pulled up a stool at the bar. The bell on the door jangled and Merlin looked up in time to see Arthur slipping out the door with his coat and backpack worn properly this time. Of course, with him gone, that left Merlin alone in the shop with the pretty barista man, the awkward silence stretching on between them, with only the quiet music from the stereo to break it up. 

“Did you know that tea was used as purely a medicinal drink for centuries?” 

Merlin looked over, frowning, “What?”

The barista smiled and passed Merlin his tea, “For almost three thousand years, tea was considered medicine, before it started to be an everyday thing.” He nodded at the cup pointedly, “And I get the feeling you might need some medicine for a bad morning?”

Merlin frowned in confusion for a moment, before he realized what the barista was referring to, “Oh!” he sighed, shaking his head, “You saw the whole… that thing?” he gestured vaguely at the door.

The barista shrugged, “Couldn’t really help it,” he took a breath, “Arthur’s a good guy, but he can be a bit touchy about his… image.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” Merlin snorted, taking a sip of his tea.

Laughing, the barista (his nametag read “Percy”) grabbed a rag and started to wipe down his side of the counter, straightening espresso cups and syrup bottles as he went along. Even with his eyes focused on his work, he said, “You can imagine the kind of pressure there is on him to maintain a good family name.”

Merlin felt less empathetic, “Mmm, yeah, can’t imagine how tough it must be being a billionaire at twenty one.”

Percy shrugged again, still cleaning his work station, and glanced at Merlin, “The guy’s in summer school. It’s the only way he could stay on track to graduate on time,” he looked back down, “His dad’s breathing down his neck, that’s for sure. And if word got out that a Pendragon flunked a business class…” he chuckled a little, shaking his head, “It wouldn’t be pretty. I’ve met his dad.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up, “You’ve met his dad?”

“Eh, just one time,” Percy said, “but… it was enough,” the guy stopped short, his smile faltering a little, “You’re… not going to tell anyone what I said, right? About the flunking thing?”

Merlin snorted at the thought, “I have no one to tell. Besides, I could care less about the politics of the rich and famous, you know?” he took another long swig of his tea. 

Percy laughed, “Yeah, I get that vibe from you,” he said, now cleaning the espresso machine. “So,” he said, after a moment, “what about you, Mr.Camera? I haven’t seen you around campus before, you new?”

“Ehm… no, I’m actually just visiting,” Merlin answered, “my friend had some paperwork to file with admissions or something, I just tagged along.”

Nodding, Percy asked, “You going to school somewhere else, then?”

This was the point in the conversation where Merlin tried not to get embarrassed. “Uh, yeah, I’m at… PCC?”

If Percy was surprised by this, he didn’t show it. He merely continued nodding his understanding as he said, “Ah, Pendragon Community College, pretty nice place. Got some good programs, do they?”

Merlin shrugged, smiling a little (out of relief, mostly, that Percy hadn’t outrightly laughed at him for going to a community college), “It’s alright. Nothing compared to this place.”

Now it was Percy’s turn to shrug, “Ehh, it’s alright here. Downside is, I have to deal with a lot of snobs, and their coffee orders are impossible.”

Merlin laughed, “I can imagine, they--” he meant to say more, but his phone went off. He dug it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID (of course it was Gwen) before he answered.

“Hello?” he said.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long, where are you now?” 

Merlin looked up at Percy apologetically, “I’m at the coffee shop right now, did you want me to get you something and meet you at the car?”

“That would be _amazing,_ Merlin, you’re brilliant.”

He laughed, “Alright. Just the usual black coffee?”

“You know me well.”

Smiling, Merlin said, “See you in a bit.”

“See you!”

When Merlin looked up from his phone, Percy was already in the middle of making the coffee. 

“Medium black coffee, no room for sugar or cream?” he confirmed, setting the cup down on the counter for Merlin.

Nodding, Merlin said, “Yes, and I still haven’t paid you for the tea, have I?”

Percy shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “Don’t worry about the tea, it’s on the house.”

Merlin frowned, “No, you don’t have to--”

The barista put up a hand to stop him, smiling, “It’s your medicinal tea for your bad day,” he said firmly, “It’s on the house.”

Grinning, Merlin passed the money for the coffee over to Percy (with an extra couple of dollars), “Keep the change, then,” he said, grabbing the coffee in his free hand as he stood.

Percy laughed, nodding, “Alright. Have a good day…?” 

“Merlin.”

Percy waved a little, “Have a good day, Merlin.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The barista smiled as Merlin turned away and walked to the door. He stepped out into the slightly-calmer wind, glad of the hot drinks to keep his hands warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!! There will be more Gwen in the next chapter, I promise!! And b-b-b-bonus, there will be Gwaine (heeeellll yeah)!!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, I frame them and put them on my fridge and treasure them always!! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin heads home and has a night-in with his flatmates. (Aka, I'm a sucker for dumb domestic fluff and if there is any group who deserves that it is these three.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy that you enjoyed the first chapter, honestly, I'm having so much fun with it and I'm so so glad there are others who find it fun, too. ^_^
> 
> Ok, real quick note for everyone, because I should probably throw this out there before this goes further and anybody gets confused. The schooling system in this fic is based on what I know, the American education system. So, yes, college is hella expensive and that's why Merlin is at a community college. And that's why the rich kids go to CU. But... why do they still talk like they're in the UK? Where is this fic even taking place? What the cuss is the writer even doing? The truth is, idek. 
> 
> Once more, I dedicate this fic to the Best Friend™, I hope this finds you well, my sunflower child.

“He _actually_ made you delete it?” Gwen asked incredulously as she and Merlin walked into their flat. 

Merlin, walking in behind her, rolling his eyes, said, “Yes, he did. But it’s fine, Gwen, it was just one.” He closed the door behind himself, sighing.

Gwen turned around to look at him, her brow furrowed, “But he had no _right_ to do that! Just because he’s so rich and--”

“Right to do what?” Merlin and Gwen’s rumpled-looking roommate asked as he walked into the kitchen, mug in hand. 

“No right to make Merlin delete his pictures!” Gwen answered.

Merlin rolled his eyes again, “Hey, Gwaine,” he said.

Gwaine smiled tiredly, raising the mug in toast to him, “Afternoon, Merlin,” he raised an eyebrow, “So who made you delete your pictures?”

Gwen looked ready to jump to Merlin’s defense. In the car she had been lividly listing the legal reasons and social politeness dictations that should have kept Arthur from interfering with Merlin’s photography just because he might be in the photos. But Merlin quickly stepped in this time to stop her.

“Some rich kid thought I was paparazzi,” Merlin answered. 

Gwaine, who was in the middle of a sip of _whatever_ was in his mug, choked a little, his eyebrows darting upwards, “Where?”

“At Camelot U!” Gwen cut in.

“At the coffee shop,” Merlin clarified.

Gwaine snorted, “Really? Which prick was that?”

“Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin muttered, certain of the reaction he would get, walking past Gwaine and setting his bag on the table.

Once more, Gwaine nearly spit out his drink, staring at Merlin with disbelief, “You’re kidding.”

Merlin scowled, taking off his coat, “Wish I was.”

Smirking, Gwaine leaned back against the counter next to the sink, “So how’s it feel to get yelled at by royalty?”

Tossing his coat over the back of a chair, Merlin groaned a little, “He’s _not_ royalty, Gwaine,” he said, walking to the refrigerator, browsing for something to eat.

Gwen snorted, “You wouldn’t know that from how he acts.”

“You didn’t even meet him, Gwen!” Merlin said.

“Well, I’ve _heard_ quite enough,” she said, taking off her own jacket now, “and not just from you, Merlin!”

Gwaine laughed, “This guy sounds _great_.”

Gwen frowned, looking to Gwaine, “You’ve never met him?”

“Ha!” Gwaine snorted, running a hand back through his long hair, “As if. It’s a big campus and we’re not even in the same major,” he toasted his mug to Merlin, “You should feel lucky. I’ve heard Arthur doesn’t talk to anyone.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, finally settling on grabbing an apple out of the bottom drawer of the fridge. Closing the door, he said, “I don’t feel lucky. I just want to forget I ever met him, frankly.”

Taking a long sip out of his mug, Gwaine nodded, “Alright,” he chuckled, “How was the rest of your day, then?”

Gwen laughed, looking at Merlin with raised brows, “Yes, Merlin, tell Gwaine about your barista.”

Merlin felt himself turn a little red, he looked up at the ceiling, hoping to escape Gwaine’s sudden stares, “ _Gwen_ ,” he said, “leave it. I said he was pretty _once_.”

“A pretty barista?” Gwaine asked, his voice picking with interest.

Merlin nodded, taking a bite of his apple, “Yes,” he said, his voice defeated, “ _very_ pretty.”

Gwaine nodded casually, “Oh, I guess Percy was working, then.”

“Wait,” Merlin said slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips, “how did you know his name?”

Now it was Gwen and Merlin’s turn to stare. Merlin’s eyebrows shot upwards and he glanced at Gwen, who was fighting back a grin, a small chuckle escaping her.

Noticing their faces, Gwaine froze, frowning, “What?”

Gwen shrugged, suddenly fidgeting with folding her jacket over her arm, “Oh, nothing. Why didn’t you tell us you had a crush?”

Gwaine snorted, “Oh, is that what you think?”

Merlin shrugged, still smiling, “I don’t know, all I said is ‘pretty barista’ and you came up with his name in, like, five seconds, so…”

Another snort from Gwaine, “Um, yeah, because I go there every day and I happen to know that there’s only _one_ barista that would get you all flustered, _Merlin_ ,” he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink, continuing after he swallowed, “mmm, oh, and he’s almost always there, he basically lives there.”

Gwen nodded, still grinning, “Right, yeah, of course, Gwaine.”

Merlin didn’t say anything, but he chewed a bite of apple and stared at Gwaine expectantly.

Gwaine rolled his eyes and stood up straight, moving out of the kitchen and tossing over his shoulder, “You two are funny, but I gotta get back to homework,” he exited the kitchen and flopped himself down on the living room couch. (Their flat was small, so the living room and kitchen were really only separated by a low countertop and not a wall.)

Gwen chuckled a little and disappeared down the hall to where her room was. Merlin walked back to his bag and coat, a small smile still on his face. He held onto his snack in his teeth while he collected his stuff to take back to his room. 

On the way there, Gwen passed him (she was on her way back to the living room and kitchen area) and asked, “Did you have any thoughts on what you wanted for dinner?”

Merlin shrugged, “Anything’s fine with me, what do we have in the fridge?” (Nevermind the fact that he’d just been looking in there for a snack, he honestly couldn’t remember what food they had.)

She frowned, thinking, “Umm… I think we still have some noodles in the pantry. How’s a… cheesy spaghetti and sauce with vegetables-instead-of-meatballs sound?” 

Grinning, Merlin shrugged again, “Sounds great.”

“I’ll run it by Gwaine, then,”she said, smiling.

Merlin laughed, “I’m pretty sure he’ll eat anything you cook, Gwen!” He saw her turn to give him a look over her shoulder, then he opened his door and flicked the light switch on. 

He tossed his bag on his bed (he’d get around to dealing with the pictures he took later) and then turned to hang his jacket up in his closet. 

His room was a hodge-podge of many things. On the walls there was nothing but pictures he had taken, new and old, most without frames. The other surfaces of his room, his dresser and his desk, were cluttered and disorganized. His dresser was piled high with clean laundry that he just never got around to putting into the drawers, while his desk was filled with notebooks, binders, and textbooks, his laptop sitting on top of it all. Merlin, after he finished hanging his jacket, grabbed his laptop and mouse, tucking them under his arm as he walked back out to the living room (making sure to turn off his light before he left).

Taking another bite of his apple as he entered the living room, sat down in the big, worn armchair by the wall. He flipped open his laptop and, while it was booting up, looked at Gwaine, who had his legs stretched all the way across the length of the couch, a notebook and a textbook dumped on the floor beside him. 

“Biochemistry still kicking your ass?” he asked, once his mouth was no longer full of apple.

Gwaine’s first response was a low growl in the back of his throat and a sour face. He looked at Merlin, “It’s stupid and I hate it.”

Merlin laughed, taking another bite, “I’m sorry, mate.”

Gwaine leaned back, running his hands over his face tiredly then checking the watch on his wrist. “I’ve been at this forever, I don’t think I can read another page.”

“Maybe you should take a break?” Merlin suggested.

Gwaine snorted, grabbing his mug, “I did. When you got home I had just finished a nice forty minute coffee break.” He took a swig from his mug and set it back on the coffee table.

Merlin turned his attention on his computer, taking a last full bite on his apple, saying off-handedly, “You can always change majors again.”

“Maybe I should just drop out and become a bartender for the rest of my life,” Gwaine said quietly.

Gwen shouted from the kitchen a decisive, “You are a year away from graduating, Gwaine Noble! Don’t you _dare_!”

Gwaine laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m not dropping out!” he called, then sighed and turned back to his laptop, typing something as he said, “it’s just nice to remind myself of my options sometimes.”

“Speaking of bartending,” Merlin said, nibbling at his apple core while he checked his Facebook page, “do you have a shift tonight?”

Gwaine nodded, “Yep, I gotta be there ten until closing.”

Merlin, finding nothing of note on Facebook, looked up, “Gwen, you need some help with cooking?”

Gwen, popping her head up from below the counter (from the clatter it sounded like she was digging for pots and pans), grinned, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind a hand, Merlin.”

Setting his laptop aside, Merlin hopped up and tossed the apple core in the trash. He walked to where Gwen was standing in the kitchen, “What’s my job, captain?” he said, smiling.

“Well, um,” Gwen pointed at the pile of veggies on the counter, “You could chop those up, I guess, mmm,” she paused a second, then said, “private? What’s does a captain call other people?”

“I’m pretty sure a captain calls other people whatever they want,” Gwaine offered from the couch.

Merlin nodded, “Yeah, unless the people outrank the captain,” he said, smiling as he grabbed a knife and cutting board.

Gwaine turned around in his seat to look at Merlin, “So who’s our general, you think?”

“Grades and student debt,” Gwen said, then gave Gwaine an exasperated look, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing homework?”

Taking a breath, Gwaine turned back to his laptop, muttering, “Well, yes, but since when did what I was supposed to be doing dictate what I end up doing?”

Gwen shook her head, walking to the pantry to dig out a pack of spaghetti noodles. Merlin started chopping up broccoli and squash.

A minute later, Gwaine slammed his laptop shut and hopped up, saying, “You know, I feel terrible that the two of you are out here working hard and I’m sitting on my bum.”

Turning around, Gwen gave Gwaine a hard look, “Gwaine--”

“It’s not getting done, Gwen,” Gwaine said quietly, “so let me help you out a bit.”

She sighed, then, rolling her eyes, she pointed at the refrigerator, “Grab out the cheese and milk.”

Gwaine grinned, ruffling his hair as he slipped past her to do as requested. Gwen smiled a little and quickly reminded him to wash his hands, too.

The kitchen wasn’t that big, and all three of them bustling around did not help much. And, besides that, since there wasn’t a terribly large amount of prep work involved, it soon devolved to Gwaine sitting on the counter, Merlin leaning beside him, while Gwen stirred noodles and sauce, still talking and laughing. 

Pretty soon Merlin was asked to give a full retelling of the Arthur Pendragon incident for Gwaine’s benefit. And, if at first Merlin tried to be factual, Gwaine’s sense of humor eventually took over and soon he and Gwaine were doing a full (somewhat dramatized) reenactment, with Gwaine parading past Merlin in his most snooty manner, pretending to knock an invisible camera from Merlin’s hands and stomp on in, telling him (in a heavy drawl) that “my father will hear about this” before swishing out of the kitchen, leaving Merlin shaking his fists at the sky, vowing vengeance. Gwen was snorting with laughter, only stopping them when dinner was ready.

While Merlin grabbed down plates for them, Gwaine drained the noodles, and Gwen got some forks for them.

“We gonna watch a movie tonight?” Gwaine asked, scooping sauce over his noodles.

Gwen shrugged, “I’m fine with that, what’s on the list?”

“Umm…” Gwaine looked up at the ceiling, thinking (licking spilled sauce off the back of his hand as he did so), “Weren’t we talking about watching Robin Hood the other day?”

“Which one?” Merlin asked.

“The animated one?” Gwen suggested.

Gwaine shook his head, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember, “No, no, it’s the live action one with…”

“Russel Crowe?” Merlin said, eyebrows raised. He scooped some pasta onto his plate while he waited for Gwen to serve herself some sauce.

“No,” Gwaine said, “the comedy one. Mel Brooks.”

“Men in Tights?” Gwen said.

“Yeah, that one!”

Merlin shrugged, “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

Gwen nodded, “Sounds good.”

Gwaine smiled, “Alright, I’ll set that up.” He walked to the living room, tossing his textbook and notebook under the coffee table so no one would trip on them, then grabbed his laptop.

“You’re not gonna pirate it, are you?” Gwen asked, following Gwaine to the couch.

Gwaine smirked, looking at her with a simple “Yo ho ho.”

She sighed and Merlin laughed a little, “Well, if none of the sites we pay for have it…”

“They don’t,” Gwaine answered, “And unless either of you have a few extra bucks you want to toss away on renting it, I suggest we take to the high seas.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue with that logic.

Merlin got the rest of his dinner and headed down to the couch with the others, taking his spot next to Gwen and taking a bite of his spaghetti. They never ate dinner at the kitchen table, it was usually covered in Gwen’s current sewing project, and tonight was no exception. A pastel purple fabric and a flower-printed fabric were shoved to one side, a sketchbook in the middle of them, and her sewing machine was set up close to the wall. Merlin hadn’t asked Gwen what she was making yet, but she seemed excited for it.

“Ha!” Gwaine exclaimed, hopping up and setting his laptop up where he could plug it into the their tv’s HDMI cable. He pressed “play” and the movie started, he grinned at them and went back to his seat, saying a quiet, “and a bottle of rum” as he sat down and grabbed his plate off the coffee table.

Watching a movie with his flatmates and eating some truly amazing vegetarian spaghetti, Merlin was just glad that the whole Pendragon drama hadn’t ruined a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Merlin had a great, relaxing evening after all. But... Coming up next, the drama continues as we learn... the other side of the story. ;D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! (The framing and placing of comments in places of honor shall continue until further notice. ^_^)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets home, has dinner, watches a movie, and hopes that his father didn't do what he think he did...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good golly, hello! It's been a while, sorry!!! I got distracted and was doing other stuff and also had a REALLY REALLY HARD TIME WITH THIS CHAPTER??? FOR SOME REASON??? Frankly, I blame it on the fact that I have nO IDEa what rich people do, like, who even knows??  
> BUUUUUUUuuuut all that to say that I'm actually rather pleased with this chapter, so thank you all for reading. ^_^

Arthur walked through the front door, feeling _far_ more tired than he had any right to be. He’d have to ask Percy whether he’d slipped decaf into his drink, because he was not feeling nearly as alert as he normally did.

Of course, it might be because of that idiot with the camera.

“Morgana, I’m back!” he called to his cousin as he closed the door behind himself and slipped his backpack off. 

Morgana appeared from around the corner, her dark hair pulled over her shoulder in a braid, “Arthur, good you’re back,” she said, smiling, “I was just about to order us some dinner, what did you want?”

Arthur shrugged, walking past her to set his backpack on one of the couches, “Maybe sushi?”

Morgana nodded, “Sounds fine to me,” she raised her eyebrows, looking at his backpack pointedly, “How did the studying go?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and groaned, taking off his jacket.

“Oh,” Morgana said, smirking, “is it really going as bad as that?”

He huffed, tossing his jacket over the back of the couch and sitting down heavily, “I cannot believe my father is making me take a _summer class_.”

Morgana scoffed, walking over to lounge herself into one of the matching armchairs, “I seem to recall that it was _your_ fault that you failed the class originally.”

Arthur rolled his eyes again, frustrated, “What would be the harm in me graduating a little bit later than intended?”

She sighed, shrugging, “That depends on whether you plan on paying for it on your own,” when Arthur only groaned in frustration, she continued (with an annoying amount of reason), “Uther is paying for you to be in school, and you two had a deal. You graduate on time, spend a few years working under him and learning the ropes, and then he retires and you take the company.”

“And in the grand scheme of things, what’s an extra year?” Arthur said, exasperation cutting his tone sharp, “It's not as if we don't have the money for it.” (The last part was added in more of a grumble as he looked distastefully at his backpack.)

Morgana smiled in amusement (much to Arthur's annoyance) and got up, grabbing her phone as she said, “I don't know what to tell you, Arthur, so I'm just going to order us some food.” She brushed wrinkles out of her skirt and added, as she typed on her phone, “Do you still have homework to do, or are we gonna watch a movie?”

Arthur sighed, grabbing his backpack and unzipping it to retrieve his laptop, “I got most of it done, I can finish it up later. Some guy started taking pictures of me so I decided it was time to get out of there.”

Morgana looked up from her phone, frowning, “There was a guy taking pictures?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said ruefully, “some gossip blogger.”

Her eyebrows darted up, “You got him to stop, though, right?”

Arthur looked at her flatly, “No, Morgana, I stopped and posed to make sure he caught pictures of me doing my summer school homework,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “ _Of course_ I got him to stop.”

“Well, what site was he working for?” Morgana asked.

Arthur shrugged, sighing, “I didn’t bother asking, I just made him to delete the pictures and left,” he flipped open his laptop and turned it on, adding in a mutter, “Even after he tried to act like he didn’t know who I was.”

Morgana snorted and Arthur looked up at her, confused by what she could be so tickled by.

She looked him up and down and said, with what Arthur could tell was a barely-maintained straight face, “Arthur, not everyone has to know who you are.”

“And regardless of whether or not he _actually_ did or not, I’m not going to have random pictures of me floating around with some idiot just because he happens to not know who I am!” Arthur said.

Morgana laughed outrightly this time, “Does it bother you that much that he didn’t know you?”

Arthur’s face flushed and he glared at her, “No. What bothers me is that some random creep decided to photograph me and then followed me into the coffee shop, forcing me to leave.”

“And I thought you said you _decided_ to leave?”

“ _Morgana_ ,” Arthur said, stressing her name, running a hand tiredly over his brow and closing his eyes for a moment. She still looked way too amused by this entire thing, and it was getting on his nerves that she wasn’t taking this seriously, “if my father found pictures of me looking like I’m a stressed out student in the middle of finals week on the internet, he would _flip_.”

Morgana smirked, “Despite the fact that you _are_ a stressed out student in the middle of finals week?”

Arthur growled, gritting his teeth and saying slowly, “I am, but being a Pendragon means I never show it,” he nodded at her, “You’re lucky you don’t have the name.”

Now it was Morgana’s turn to roll her eyes, “No, I don’t, I just have the overbearing uncle and the insufferable cousin.”

Arthur grabbed the nearest throw pillow and chucked it at Morgana, she laughed and ducked to avoid it. 

“ _Insufferable_?” Arthur asked, smiling. He was too used to Morgana’s light ribbing to take it personally. 

Morgana jumped up and ran into the kitchen for cover, yelling over her shoulder, “I’m buying dinner, go hang your damn coat up!”

Arthur frowned, “My _coat_?”

“The couch does not magically transport your clothes to the closet, Arthur!”

He scoffed, but set his laptop aside so he could stand up. He grabbed his backpack and coat and carried them back to his room. 

The apartment he and Morgana shared was spacious and clean (thanks to the maid). The balcony offered a view of the city and the setting sun on the horizon, bathing the living room in golden light. Arthur walked down the hall, passing the door to Morgana’s room and continued straight to his room. He tossed his coat over the back of his desk chair and put his backpack on the floor next to it, forcing himself to ignore the nagging thought that he still had most of a paper to write (despite what he’d said to Morgana). Sighing, he kicked off his shoes and walked back out, letting his feet sink into the softness of the carpet. 

“Morgana,” he called as he walked, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, “make sure you get extra egg rolls with dinner, too!”

Morgana leaned her head around the corner, “I already did because you ate them all last time.”

Arthur scoffed. He _hadn’t_. Or, at the very least, he hadn’t had the intention to, as far as he had known she’d already grabbed some for herself before he had eaten. 

He sat down on the couch, grabbing his laptop once more. After a little while Morgana joined him, sitting down on the other couch, stretching her legs out over almost the full length. 

“By the way,” Morgana said suddenly, disrupting the quiet, “Your father called me today,” this caught Arthur’s attention and he looked up, eyebrows raised as she continued, “he asked me if you’d taken a psychology class yet.”

His eyebrows crept upwards higher, “And you told him I did, right?”

Morgana nodded, “Oh, yeah, I said that you’d taken one last year.”

“Ok, so did he tell you why he was asking?” Arthur asked.

“I guess he read a very convincing article about the benefits of understanding psychology as a businessman,” Morgana’s lips turned upward a little as she said this and Arthur could tell she was trying not to laugh.

His stomach dropped and he gave her a dark look, “Do _not_ tell me he signed me up for a psych class.”

Morgana said nothing, just raised her eyebrows and waggled her head in a way that could have been a nod and could have been a shake.

Which meant that, _yes_ , his father had. Or, at least, his father was really _really_ thinking about it.

“Oh, _no_ ,” Arthur growled, furiously digging out his phone and setting his laptop to the side. He jumped to his feet, already locating his father’s number, and walked across the room to stand by the glass doors that led to the balcony, his emotions too riled for him to sit right now.

“He might be in a meeting,” Morgana warned him, not moved from her relaxed position on the couch. 

Arthur tossed her a look and hit the “call” button regardless. He listened to the first ring. And then the second. He started pacing, biting at his lip as he prayed for his father to pick up the phone. It kept ringing. And ringing. 

It went to voicemail. Arthur let out a frustrated noise as he listened to the pre-recorded sound of his father’s voice (he knew it by heart, like the cutscene to a video game boss battle he just couldn’t beat). 

Finally, after the tone, Arthur let his full rage out. (Ok, not really, because that was a good way to get himself disinherited.)

“Father, when you get this call me, Morgana told me you were thinking of signing me up for a psych class,” he said, keeping his voice direct and as calm as he could, “and I already took one, so, really, it’s _fine_.” He took a breath, “Just… call me. Bye.”

When he looked back at his cousin, she smirked, her eyebrows twitching as she said, “Looks like he’s in a meeting.”

Arthur stalked back to the couch, tossing himself into his seat as he muttered, “Yeah, and when is he _not_?”

Morgana looked at him pointedly, “Well, since there’s nothing you can do about it until he calls you back, let’s just decide on a movie.”

He sighed, “Did you have one in mind?”

She shrugged, “Did you?”

Arthur snorted, grabbing his laptop, “I’m not going to play this game, Morgana, you just pick one, I’ll watch whatever you want to watch.”

“Really?”

“ _Yes_ , really, just pick one, there are too many options and we’ll be stuck here all night if we try to agree,” he was already clicking a few tabs open on his web browser, checking all the social media despite the fact that he had checked them on his phone within the past ten minutes.

Morgana raised an eyebrow, “So, you wouldn’t care if I decided to watch a scary movie.”

Arthur looked over his laptop darkly, “No,” he said, “but I’d rather go do homework than watch another dull, predictable, not-at-all-scary movie.”

She smirked, nodding, “Oh, yes, dull and predictable,” she said, “says the one who _yelped_ and jumped three feet the last time we watched one of those ‘not-at-all-scary’ movies.”

Rolling his eyes, he corrected her quickly, “First of all, I have never yelped in my entire life, thanks,” he scoffed, “and second of all, I only jumped because I was already half asleep by then and that one girl’s death screams woke me up.”

Morgana nodded again, though she looked unconvinced, and said, “Fine, you’re not scared. But you’d rather watch something more exciting?”

“Watching paint dry would be more exciting than a horror movie, Morgana,” Arthur said, taking a deep breath, “What about an action film?”

Morgana laughed, “You said you didn’t care.”

“Well, your first choice was terrible, so…” Arthur said, looking over his laptop at her and chuckling a little.

She looked back at her phone, biting her lip, brow furrowed as she typed something in, “What about…” she said thoughtfully, “something classic. Jurassic Park?”

Arthur nodded, “Fine by me, I’m always a fan of dinosaurs,” he looked at her again, “What did you think of the newest one? Jurassic World?”

Morgana snorted, “I think it honored the tradition of Jurassic Park films with less substance and more ancient reptile destruction.”

“Oh, come on,” Arthur laughed, “if anybody went into a Jurassic Park movie for the _substance_ , of course they were disappointed. I went into it for the dinosaurs and the motorcycle velociraptor gang, thank you very much,” he snapped his fingers, adding quickly, “Also, I’ve never in my life seen a side character more completely destroyed as that one assistant chick was. She was barely more than a _background_ character and she got dragged all across the park and then _CHOMP_ ,” he clapped his hands together, laughing, “I mean, you don’t get that with any other film series!”

Morgana sighed loudly, wincing, “Yeah, I thought that was a bit excessive. She didn’t even get the chance to _do_ anything.”

“She didn’t have to!” Arthur said, then shook his head, “But that’s beside the point, because the original Jurassic Park is still better.”

“No argument here,” she said, smiling a little. 

Arthur glanced at her, “So you want to set that up, then?”

Morgana raised an eyebrow, “ _I_ ordered dinner.”

He groaned and leaned forward to grab the universal remote off of the coffee table. “I hope you appreciate all I do for this family,” he muttered in an exaggerated exasperation as he turned on the tv and sound system.

She laughed, shaking her head solemnly, “You poor thing.”

While Arthur flicked through the options the smart tv had to offer, Morgana’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and then jumped to her feet, saying quickly, “The food’s here, the delivery guy needs to be buzzed in.”

Arthur nodded as she grabbed her wallet out of her bag and walked to the door. Before she left he called a quick reminder to, “Don’t tip him if he’s a jackass, ok!”

Morgana shot a look over her shoulder, replying, “They’re always nice to me, Arthur, it’s you they can’t stand!”

“What, just because I check to make sure everything’s correct?” Arthur asked.

“I’ll be back!” she said, rather than responding to his statement. The door closed softly behind her, leaving Arthur to finish finding the movie.

Arthur rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Of _course_ they were nice to Morgana. She was pretty and she always tipped (usually more money than Arthur would suggest, frankly). 

He did manage to find the movie and rent it online. With a deep exhale he sat down on the couch again, grabbing his phone and shooting a quick text to his uncle.

**You:**

**[Please ask my father to CALL ME]**

He set his phone down, gritting his teeth, unable to shake the worry that his father had _already_ done something ridiculous. Arthur grabbed his laptop again, but kept his phone next to him so he could see any messages that might come in.

By the time Morgana re-entered, her hands full of take-out boxes, Arthur still had gotten no response from his uncle. He kept glancing at his phone, though, and Morgana noticed, even as she was passing him the egg rolls.

She raised an eyebrow, “Expecting a message?”

“I--” he started to say, when his phone buzzed. He snatched it off the couch, reading his uncle’s reply quickly.

**Agravaine:**

**[He says he’ll call tomorrow.]**

Arthur’s jaw tightened and he felt annoyance creeping up on him. He didn’t bother typing out a reply, only tossed his phone back down on the couch and grabbed the nearest take-out box.

Morgana’s curious expression darkened to a frown, “Something wrong, Arthur?”

He shook his head, laughing bitterly, “No, nothing’s wrong, I’m fine.”

“Arthur--”

He grabbed the remote, “I said it’s fine. It’s just the same old routine with dad, that’s all.”

He pressed “play” before she could respond and set his mind to eating sushi and watching dinosaurs eat people, hoping that _maybe_ he could forget about this shit-storm of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHOUT OUT TO ALL THE PEOPLE STILL READING THIS, AND ALSO TO MY FAVORITE NERD OF ALL TIME (that is to say, callout post for suitablyhip for being too pretty, too nice, and basically a human sunflower, I'm dedicating this story to you because you're TRASH).
> 
> I want to thank you all for reading and commenting and kudos-ing, it really does mean SO SO much. ^_^
> 
> Until the next chapter, gang!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin runs into one dreadful surprise visitor and one pleasant surprise visitor. Also, he talks a lot about a certain Professor John Kilgharrah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should really be called "the author projects onto Merlin all the emotions she has ever experienced as a retail worker" hahahahaaa....~I need a new job~.
> 
> I know this chapter was a long time coming and I'm SO SO SORRY about that, life and work and everything just got in the way and I had NO inspiration to work on this project just... a big clustercuss.
> 
> That being said, I hope you enjoy!! :D

Two weeks later, the bells on the door to the Old Gold Tearoom jangled loudly as Merlin rushed through. Gaius, his boss, looked up from the tea leaves he was mixing behind the counter and started to say, “Merlin, where ha-”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, Gaius,” Merlin said quickly, running past Gaius to get to the back room, already taking his jacket off, “Gwen had work today and my bus was late, I’m _so_ sorry.”

Gaius smiled as Merlin stowed his jacket and scarf in the small staff lunch area (a small corner at the back of the shop that was blocked from customer view by a big shelf of herbs) and then grabbed one of the half aprons (gold embroidery along the edge read “Old Gold Tearoom”) off the wall hook. 

“So I assume you’re still collecting for your car fund?” Gaius asked.

Merlin nodded, sighing heavily as he finished tying on the apron and washed his hands, “I’m working on it. With Gwen going to CU now, I’m gonna be stuck with public transport to get to and from school until I can afford a car,” he dried his hands and joined Gaius at the counter, adding an apologetic smile as he said, “I swear, I’ll be on time to work, though.”

Gaius smiled, “No need to worry, Merlin, a couple minutes late is fine.” he said as he passed Merlin a bowl full of dried leaves which smelled strongly of mint, “Cut some of this up, I need it a couple cups for the Mint-n-Mix tea.”

Merlin took the bowl over to the cutting board on the other side of the small kitchen area.

“Have you applied for your classes yet?” Gaius asked.

“Oh, yeah. I can send you my class times tonight so you can schedule work around it.”

Gaius glanced at Merlin, “So, what do you have this time around?”

“Ehmm,” Merlin closed his eyes a moment, trying to remember the list, “I’ve got Journalism Ethics and Law, a photography class, and a psych class.”

Gaius made a small sort of “huh” noise, “Is that one of Kilgharrah’s psychology classes?” he asked, dumping a cup of herbs into the large mixing bowl he was using. 

Merlin nodded as he continued cutting up mint leaves, “Yeah,” he said, his tone a little lower than it could have been because.

Well… 

Gaius knew Professor John Kilgharrah well enough (even just from what Merlin had told him) to know the dread that Merlin was feeling at the idea of _three whole months_ of classes. It didn’t matter that Kilgharrah was Merlin’s academic advisor (actually, Merlin was starting to worry that this fact was going to make the whole experience worse), because Merlin had heard enough horror stories from his fellow students. The man was like some kind of campus myth. 

It wasn’t just that the man never used the same course schedule (so anyone hoping to cheat using old notes from previous years was pretty much screwed). It wasn’t even that every class reported that Kilgharrah did weird social experiments every quarter and (Merlin could attest from experience) gave advice like some kind of fairy tale wizard. It was that the guy had been around for _years_ and by now had amassed such a history of being a hardass about grading. Students called him the “old dragon” because he could, academically speaking, make your entire GPA go up in flames. All it took was one bad overall class grade and POOF. There goes your scholarship. 

“Were all the other psych classes just… filled up? Or does he just expect you to take his class because he’s your adviser?” Gaius asked, frowning over his shoulder at Merlin.

Merlin snorted, “Gods, no, he didn’t make me take it. It was just,” he shrugged, saying, “it was the only one that matched up to a decent bus schedule and fit in between my other classes.”

Gaius raised one eyebrow and “harrumphed”, turning back to the tea leaves he was mixing, “I would have suggested just skipping the psych class this quarter.

Merlin laughed, shaking his head with another shrug, “I need a psych class. I’d rather get it over with now. Besides, how bad can it be?”

“Careful when you say that, Merlin,” Gaius said walking across the kitchen area to grab a jar of dried rose.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, “Why’s that?”

Gaius gave him a look, “Because whenever you do, it always seems to be worse.”

“It doesn’t!” Merlin said, laughing as he collected the chopped up mint into a measuring cup, “Not _every_ time.”

Gaius “harrumphed” again, but Merlin could see him smiling slightly as he turned away, “You start in, what? A week and a half?” he asked.

“About that, yeah,” Merlin said.

“Then in two weeks I’ll send you home with a nice calming tea mix,” Gaius said, matter-of-factly, though Merlin knew him well enough that “matter-of-factly” was actually just well-disguised snark. 

Merlin rolled his eyes, chuckling a little, “You think I’m going to be that stressed after less than a week of class?”

Gaius shrugged, raising an eyebrow in what Merlin could only describe as a “I _know_ you’re going to be stressed” sort of look. 

Merlin laughed, shortly joined by Gaius’s chuckle, and walked over to the mixing bowl with the mint, shaking his head, still. 

A customer walked in, sending the door bell jangling loudly, and Merlin’s head snapped up to look, his retail smile already in place.

“Hello!” he greeted cheerily. 

The woman removed her hood (apparently it had started raining again) and smiled at Merlin and Gaius.

Merlin’s stomach must have dropped about three feet.

“ _Merlin_?” she said, her smile widening into a surprised look as she brushed dark hair out of her eyes.

Merlin kept his retail smile in place even as he wanted to melt into the floor and maybe make a nice home for himself somewhere in the sewage system, “Oh, hey, Nimueh! What a,” _Disaster. Absolute fucking disaster_ , “surprise!”

She walked up to the counter (gods, please, no) and leaned next to the cash register, “I had no idea you worked here! Is this a summer job?” 

The way she said “summer job” sent a wave of annoyance spiking through Merlin. He wanted to remind her that not everybody was an _heiress_ to the massive Priestess family fortune. 

“Oh, ehm,” _Find a way to end the conversation_. Gods, his smile was somehow still in place. His tone was _somehow_ still light and cheerful, “I’ve actually been working here a couple years now! What have you been up to?” _What the shit? That is not how you end the conversation, you clotpole._

Nimueh shrugged, “Oh, my family took a summer yacht trip around the Pacific Islands, but we do that every year anyway. I got a lot of really great photos, I’m sending a few out to different galleries this week.”

Merlin could feel himself nodding and smiling even though he didn’t really want to, “That’s great,” he said, despite the fact that by now he felt like his stomach must be very close to the radioactive core of the planet with how far it had sunk and that feeling was distinctly not “great”. 

“And you?” Nimueh said, smiling with what Merlin thought was smugness because she _had_ to know the answer already.

“Oh, just the usual. Working, applying for classes,” he replied, shrugging with the closest approximation of “nonchalantly” as he fought the urge to scream that, again, _not an heiress_. 

Nimueh’s eyebrows went up, “You’re still taking pictures, though, right?” Almost like she was checking to see if he still had enough money to do that. _“Oh, the poor peasant, having to scrape by with a_ summer job _, gods forbid.”_

“Yes, absolutely,” Merlin said, smiling and nodding still (he felt like a little plastic bobblehead of himself). _Please, gods, someone, anyone, end this conversation._

“Merlin,” Gaius said, lightly cutting in.

Merlin turned around with what he _knew_ was too much enthusiasm and said, “Mmhmm, yes, Gaius?” 

Gaius hesitated, looking at Merlin a moment and taking in his weird tone. His eyes flickered over Nimueh, then back to Merlin.

If ever there was a chance for Merlin to develop psychic powers, now would be the ideal time. He looked at his boss with wide eyes, trying to silently signal a “HELP ME” to the man. He wondered if blinking “S.O.S” would get his point across.

Gaius lifted a small stack of envelopes in one hand and said, “I just remembered that I was going to take these to the-”

“Mailbox down the street? I can do that for you, if you like.” Merlin said, too quickly, but he saw his opportunity and was latching on with everything he had. 

“Well, I can take them, if you want to watch the shop,” Gaius said.

Merlin shook his head with a smile, “No, no, Gaius, there’s no need for you to go out in the rain, I mean,” he stepped forward and grabbed the letters, walking past Gaius to get to the lunch area, saying over his shoulder, “I could use a walk, anyway.”

Gaius nodded, watching Merlin walk by with the puzzled expression still on his face, “Right… however you like,” he said, before turning back to the counter. 

As Merlin grabbed his jacket, he heard Gaius ask Nimueh if she was looking for anything particular. She said something about a gift for her aunt and fine china and oolong tea, which made Merlin roll his eyes as he wrapped his scarf around his neck and put the letters in his pocket so they wouldn’t get rained on. He turned and walked quickly back through the shop.

Nimueh was looking at the displays of teapots and china (promisingly, she was already holding a box under her arm as if she had decided on buying it), but as he opened the door to go, she said, “Oh, it was nice seeing you, Merlin!”

Merlin smiled (this one was a little more forced than the others) and said, “Yep, you too!” before turning and fleeing (well, quickly walking, at least) out the door. 

He spent the walk through the rain turning through Nimueh’s comments, muttering darkly to himself as he plodded around puddles, “ _Oooh_ , Merlin, you’ve got a _job_? In the tea store I’m trying to buy my _fancy aunt_ a gift in? Oh, me? I’ve just been out on my yacht, getting my photos in galleries, that sort of funny little thing. Oh, yes, being a Priestess is _so_ difficult…” and continuing on much like that. 

Merlin had met Nimueh a year or so ago at a big cultural event downtown. Some sort of historical Camelot festival or something, Merlin couldn’t quite remember. There had been sword fighting and jousting, and he had taken his camera down to try and get a few pictures. Nimueh had been there with her camera, as well. And the two had started talking camera specifications and equipment and techniques. All well and good. They followed and friended one another’s social media. It was fine.

And then started the snide comments. The “Oh, Merlin, you take such nice photos. For the equipment you have, I mean!” and the “Wow, this method is really thrifty! I just use blah blah, expensive lenses and shit because, did I mention I’m an _heiress_ _yet_?” and the “I got one of my pictures into this gallery and it just sold for two hundred dollars!” as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

Merlin had tried not to let it get under his skin. But a year and a half of that? And whenever they saw each other in real life it was even worse. He could take a few knocks about his lack of money, or his camera being cheap, or really _anything_. What he couldn’t stand was the way she acted like _having_ those things made her better. 

He took a breath of the gray, foggy air and stepped around another puddle. By now he had reached the mailbox (it was a couple blocks down the street from the Old Gold) and he fished the letters out of his pocket, depositing them carefully before turning and beginning his walk back to the tearoom.

Hopefully, Nimueh would be gone by the time he got back. 

“Merlin!” came a shout from behind him.

He turned on his heel, looking around for the source of the call, Merlin raised his eyebrows.

Down the street a little ways was a figure with a mop of reddish-golden hair. Merlin frowned, looking closely. The figure jogged across the street and Merlin realized that it was Leon Cooke, his curls bouncing as he jogged. 

Merlin smiled, “Hey!”

Leon ran up to stand in front of Merlin (well, ok, technically he was jogging in place in front of Merlin), saying, “I didn’t expect to see you downtown today, you working?”

Merlin nodded, “Yeah, I was just dropping off some mail for Gaius, what are you doing?” he looked Leon up and down as he asked. 

Grinning widely despite being completely drenched, Leon said cheerfully, “I’m out for a run, I’m trying to get back in shape.”

Merlin held back a snort of laughter because Leon saying “back in shape” made it seem like he had somehow _lost_ shape over the summer (he hadn’t, or, at least Merlin didn’t think he had, and in any case he wasn’t sure he’d had the chance, what with all the football and running). But, Merlin didn’t say that and instead smiled and nodded, “Well, I’ve gotta get back to the shop…” he said, starting to take a few steps.

Leon nodded, “Oh, yeah, yeah, you want me to walk with you?” he asked, stopping his jogging-in-place to fall in step with Merlin, “I’m due for a cooldown, anyway.”

Merlin grinned, “Sure, yeah, I don’t mind.”

“You register for classes yet?” Leon asked.

“Oh, ehm, yeah, you?” 

Leon nodded, “Oh, yeah, I’ve got a couple sciences, criminology, umm,” he frowned, running a hand over his eyes as he tried to remember, “and a technical writing class,” he glanced at Merlin, “You?”

Merlin shrugged, “Just a psych class, photography, and journalism,” he said.

Leon beamed, “Right on, right on. Taking psych from the old dragon, are you?”

Merlin laughed, “Yes, how’d you know?”

“Gwen mentioned it the other day,” Leon said, shrugging, “I wish you luck, man, you’re gonna need it. I heard from one of the Knights that Kilgharrah’s a real tough one.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it, too,” Merlin said darkly.

Leon’s gaze turned quickly on Merlin as he amended, “Not to worry you, I mean. You’ll be fine, Merlin, I’m sure.”

Merlin chuckled a little at Leon’s politeness, but nodded, “Thanks. I’ll be ok. As long as I get better than a C.”

“Then it’s a sure thing,” Leon said, grinning. 

Merlin took a breath and asked, “So, you’re still gonna be the Knights’ captain this year?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Leon said, “not sure what the football team would do without me,” he waved a hand, adding, “Not trying to sound like I’m all important and all, like, I’m sure they _would_ be fine without me, it’s just,” he shrugged, smiling, “They asked me to come back and captain again this year and that was rather nice.”

Merlin bit back a chuckle and said, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“I’ll try to give you my best angles,” Leon joked.

“Oh,” Merlin blinked, surprised, “did Gwen tell you I’d be taking pictures?” he asked.

Leon flushed a little (well, a little _more_ , since his face was already pink from the cold and the jog), “Yeah,” he said sheepishly, glancing at Merlin, “she said now that she’s going to CU she’s determined to get you to come to our football matches.”

Merlin laughed a little, “Well, I mean, I could _always_ use more pictures of you and Gwaine… kicking things.”

“Still don’t understand the rules of football, eh?”

“Not at all,” Merlin laughed.

Leon shrugged, “Well,” he said slowly, “next time I’m around the flat me and Gwaine can give you a crash course on the game, how’s that?”

Merlin snorted, “Not sure if it’ll help. The last one sure didn’t, besides,” he laughed, “I don’t need to know the rules to take pictures, right?”

Leon shook his head, chuckling, “I guess not,” he glanced up, “I think your stop is coming up,” he said, nodding at the “Old Gold Tearoom” sign hanging above the door a few yards down the sidewalk, “and I’ve had my cooldown,” he looked back at Merlin and waved a little, “I’ll see you ‘round, Merlin!”

Merlin grinned, waving as Leon started up his jog again. The rain had turned to a sort of fine mist-like thing, so Merlin didn’t feel quite so bad for him. He turned into the tearoom, the bells above the door clanging loudly as he entered, and was relieved to find that Nimueh was nowhere to be found.

Gaius looked up as he entered and asked, eyebrows raised, “What was that all about, Merlin? You went charging out of here like she carried the plague.”

Merlin smiled as he walked to the back of the shop and said, “Well, she’s…” he drifted off a little, “a bit of a…”

“She’s a witch?” Gaius offered.

Merlin snorted, “Close, but not quite.”

“No, really, she told me herself,” Gaius said, “she’s a witch. She kept asking me what herb combinations I’ve tried and whether I’d ever thought to put sigils on the bags.”

Merlin took off his jacket, “Huh,” was all he could offer.

Gaius’s smile crept up and he said, quietly, “She was a bit of a pompous ass, though.”

Merlin laughed, grabbing his apron and tying it on. At least Gaius saw it his way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Really, once I got this chapter rolling I was very very pleased with how it came out!! (Even pleased enough to throw Leon in at the end, which I wasn't expecting to do AT ALL, but that was a ton of fun anyways. :D)
> 
> If you've enjoyed it so far and feel so inclined, leave kudos or a comment so I know! I'm just a fan writing for other fans, and I really do appreciate every last bit of feedback. ^_^  
> Have a wonderful day/night/whatever it is wherever you may be!!
> 
> ((Next chapter we get even MORE irate Arthur Pendragon because that's my favorite way to write him. :P))


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Pendragon's day is going entirely wrong, and he's ready to go home. And his psychology teacher is clearly insane. Life is really quite unfair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Last update September 22nd, 2016" hahaha... *sweats nervously* I'm so sorry, gang. D: I'm trying my hardest, but things got away from me. I'm currently heading back to school so?? Things may slow down. (I will try not to make it another 4 month wait, though. Yikes! D:)  
> I BEG YOUR FORGIVENESS, READERS. PLEASE ENJOY THIS CHAPTER, I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING ARTHUR BEING GRUMPY.

Arthur stomped his way across campus. 

He was having a bad morning.

Not only had he learned that his father _had_ enrolled him in some stupid, unnecessary psych class, but, adding insult to injury, he was basically avoiding Arthur now. His father probably didn’t want to listen to Arthur argue with him. (Especially when they both knew it was pointless, anyway, because Uther Pendragon’s word was law.)

And he’d snapped at Morgana this morning when she’d asked him what his grades from his summer class had been (not nearly as good as his father would have wanted), which had sparked a whole argument _there_. Because, unfortunately, he and Morgana were a bit too much alike when it came to not letting things slide. (He reminded himself to stop and pick up one of Morgana’s favorite dinners to smooth things over.) 

Not to mention, his favorite coat was gone at the cleaner’s and he was left with his other one that had _slightly_ too-short sleeves. Infuriating. 

And, to top off the whole, shitty morning, now he was at school. On a random Thursday. Because it was one week until the start of class, and he needed to have a word with his psych teacher. 

The only comfort he had was that the gray overcast sky above reflected his emotions _perfectly_. It was the ideal trudging weather, to go along with the kind of day that made being miserable entirely easy. 

So it was that he was annoyed, miserable, and not precisely watching where he was going when he was all but run over by a lanky stranger, whose shoulder knocked his roughly when he was only just walking to the door to Gryphon Hall (which was just a fancy name for the sociology and psych building).

“Sorry!” came a vaguely familiar voice.

Arthur reeled back a little, blinked, and looked up, his face turning immediately from surprise to deep annoyance when he recognized the lanky stranger to be none other than… 

It was that guy. The one with the camera outside of the cafe.

“ _Gossip blogger_?” Arthur asked, his brow furrowing.

“Gossip Blogger” took one look at Arthur’s face and said, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” again before turning on his heel and trying to walk quickly away.

“Hey!” Arthur said, taking a step after the dark-haired stranger.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Blogger said, turning around and lifting his hands as if to show he had nothing in them, “No camera. I just wanna go.”

Arthur snorted, staring, “Are you stalking me or something?”

Blogger rolled his eyes, scoffing, “Do I look like I have time for that? And if I _did_ ,” he looked Arthur up and down, his mouth turning sourly, “why would I waste it on an ass like you?”

Arthur’s eyebrows bolted upwards, “Excuse me?”

Blogger snorted, “Sorry, am I supposed to call you ‘sir’? Or maybe ‘my lord’?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms over his chest, frankly curious as to who this guy thought he was, talking to him like that.

“Nothing,” Blogger said, suddenly looking away, as if embarrassed for his own momentary lapse into sarcasm.

“No, no,” Arthur said, giving the stranger a cold smile and taking a few steps closer, “go on. Really. I’m _all_ ears.”

Blogger seemed to consider the offer for some time, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked at Arthur (who merely raised his eyebrows higher and waited patiently for a response). 

Finally, Blogger seemed to throw caution to the wind, saying quickly, “You think you’re better than everyone, marching around like a king. And you’re a prat. And you assume everything is about you, when it’s not.”

Arthur took this information with a nod, chuckling a little, “Right,” he said sarcastically, pulling a fake-impressed expression, “Wow, well, you’ve _really_ got me pegged, there, Gossip Blogger. Congratulations.”

“I’m _not_ a gossip blogger!” The guy who was _obviously_ a gossip blogger insisted, rolling his eyes.

Arthur laughed outright, nodding a little as he walked backwards toward the door to Gryphon Hall, “Of course not!”

The blogger rolled his eyes again, turning away, “You’re an ass!”

“Goodbye, Blogger!” Arthur shouted in mock-enthusiasm over his shoulder as he stepped through the door to Gryphon Hall, though his expression soured even as he spoke. Because a run-in with a crazy gossip blogger/stalker was _precisely_ what his morning had needed. _Brilliant._

He turned to climb the stairs, heading up to the second level, where most of the staff offices were. He stopped for a moment to consult the directory on the wall before quickly turning down a hall to find room 234. 

One Professor Kilgharrah was about to get an earful. 

Arthur knocked as a courtesy, but the words “come on in” had only barely begun when Arthur pushed the door open and stood in front of the somewhat cluttered desk. Professor Kilgharrah looked up from his seat behind the desk, his eyebrows moving upwards in surprise.

“Can I help you with something, Mr…”

“Pendragon. Arthur Pendragon.” (He said it quickly and tersely, staring down at the teacher with every bit of authority he could muster.)

“Ah, yes, of course,” Kilgharrah said, chuckling lightly (which didn’t instill much confidence in Arthur’s previously attempted “authority”), “You’re enrolled in one of my psychology classes for this next quarter, of course. Did you have questions?” Kilgharrah looked up at Arthur flatly, seemingly unperturbed. 

Clearing his throat, Arthur shifted on his feet, saying quickly, “Are you aware at all of the fact that I’ve taken a psych class once already?”

Kilgharrah’s eyebrows rose further and he steepled his fingers in front of himself thoughtfully, saying, “I don’t recall ever teaching you…”

Arthur waved a hand dismissively, saying, “I took Professor Scalla’s class last year, it wasn’t yours.”

“Ah, yes, an excellent course, Professor Scalla is quite talented,” Kilgharrah said thoughtfully, before his eyes turned to look up at Arthur once more, icy over the wire rims of his glasses, “Though I fail to see how this connects to me and my class, Mr.Pendragon. Some elaboration may be in order.”

Arthur bit back an annoyed sigh as he said, slowly and deliberately, “I am merely hoping that you will take into account my _excellent_ marks in that class when you are grading me in yours.”

Kilgharrah chuckled again, shaking his head, “Young Mr.Pendragon, I’m afraid I only grade my students based on current work. I don’t hand out pats on the back for previous success.”

“Yes, but, sir,” Arthur said, jumping quickly to explain, “I… don’t foresee that I will be able to do my best work in this class, as I have already a rather full course load and-”

“Then my suggestion would be to drop the class,” Kilgharrah cut him off sharply yet smoothly before turning his attention back to his computer screen. 

Arthur took a deep breath, frustration building quickly (his fuse was admittedly already rather short, given the shitty morning he’d had, and this situation would be aggravating at the best of times). 

“Sir,” he said firmly, “I don’t know if you’re aware, but it was _not_ my choice to take this class. You see, my father signed me up without my knowledge.”

Kilgharrah sniffed, giving Arthur a stoney look out of the corner of his eye, “Then my suggestion would be to speak to your father, as that would seem most profitable to your intentions.”

“You don’t understand, he _expects_ me to take this class and get a good _ish_ grade and if I don’t do that then…” Arthur stopped himself from going further, stuttering out a quick, “he’ll… he’ll be rather upset.”

“And I suppose,” Kilgharrah said, with a withering sigh as he turned to look at Arthur once more, “that you believe _actually_ doing the work in my class would be too much for me to ask of you?”

“I passed the last psych class _very_ well!” Arthur said quickly, “And if you would only give my grades the tiniest boost, I’m not asking for perfect, just something to pass to get my father off my back, I would be extremely grateful!”

Kilgharrah smiled a little, looking at Arthur thoughtfully, “I expect the same thing of every one of my students, Mr.Pendragon. To compromise that would be a failing which I could not forgive myself.”

Arthur sat down, letting out a sharp exhale of breath, grasping at straws, now, “Professor, you teach at both Camelot University and Pendragon Community College, correct?”

Kilgharrah laughed outrightly, now, saying, “I suppose you’ll offer me a bribe, now? Since your father has so much sway at PCC, you’re thinking you can get me a bigger office, perhaps? Larger paycheck, maybe?” 

Arthur sighed, leaning back in his chair, saying nothing because… well… yes. That had been his next course of action. 

“Young man, I think you will find rather quickly,” Kilgharrah said, still laughing, “that I am quite comfortable in my place. Teaching at both locations has given me perspective on the world, something I could not gain anywhere else. Many years have taught me one important thing.”

Arthur fought the urge to roll his eyes as he turned his head to look back at Kilgharrah. Because he got the distinct impression that he was about to hear all about what this great “perspective” had taught the old dragon. 

Kilgharrah took off his glasses, placing them deliberately on the desk between him and Arthur. “None of us,” he said carefully, “can choose our destiny. And none of us can escape it.”

Arthur’s eyebrows darted upwards. That sounded like some cheesy line that you would find on a gift mug.

“Right,” he said, nodding and trying to act like this was some kind of pithy new information.

Kilgharrah’s smile returned and he looked almost amused by Arthur’s reaction, “Arthur, perhaps it is your destiny to take this class from me. Perhaps it is your destiny to fail this class. Perhaps,” he leaned forward, putting on his glasses once more, “it is already leading you down a path you would not go of your own volition. Destiny rarely works the way any man intends.”

Arthur kept nodding. Right. Yeah. _Sure_. Because Uther Pendragon was a big purveyor of “destiny” and a college-level psych class was going to change Arthur’s life forever. That sounded realistic, why not?

“If there is nothing else…” Kilgharrah said slowly, his eyes darting to the door, then back to Arthur.

Arthur jumped to his feet, “Right, yes, no, that was… it.”

Kilgharrah turned to look back at his computer, “Have a good day, Mr.Pendragon, I’ll see you in class.”

“Yeah…” Arthur murmured, walking to the door, hyper-aware that he had come here and achieved _nothing_. 

“Oh, and, Mr.Pendragon,” Kilgharrah said suddenly, forcing Arthur to stop at the door and look back.

The professor’s eyes sparked, though his face was deadly serious as he said, “I won’t mention this conversation to anyone. I trust you’ve learned better judgement and you will not be found… attempting anything of this sort again?”

Right. “Pendragon Heir Caught Bribing Teachers” wouldn’t exactly make his father too happy. And it wasn’t exactly the kind of headline you framed and put on your wall. 

Arthur nodded soberly, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Kilgharrah nodded one last time before saying, in much more his usual tone, “Do close the door on your way out, please.”

Once in the hall with the door closed behind him, Arthur let out a long, low breath. This day wasn’t going to get any better, it seemed. He shook his head before stalking down the hall, stomping his way down the stairs in an attempt to vent his frustration on them (it helped a bit). 

Morgana was never going to believe he’d run into that blogger again. Never. Or she would, and then she’d be laughing at him for a hundred years about it, because of _course_ he would be unfortunate enough to run into him again. 

A huge, empty campus, and the creeps still found him. Unbelievable. 

Gossip Blogger had some nerve, acting all high and mighty. He was probably one of those people who only owns three shirts and somehow thinks that makes him better. Like, the ones who thrive on being prideful minimalists, and try to act cooler than people who own more than a backpack full of stuff.

Stupid, high and mighty blogger with the… cheekbones and twiggish figure. Arthur could probably throw him across the football field, he was _tiny_. Way too skinny. 

As Arthur exited Gryphon Hall, an icy gust of wind swiftly turned his cheeks red and he lamented the absence of his favorite jacket. This one just wasn’t good enough for this kind of weather. 

Of course, if his father hadn’t enrolled him in this dumb psych class, all of these problems could have been avoided. He wouldn’t have had to leave the house today, remaining safe and warm indoors, and more importantly he wouldn’t have run into Blogger again. He wouldn’t have been so annoyed and snapped at Morgana this morning. Everything could have been _nice_. 

“But _nooo_ ,” Arthur muttered darkly to himself, trudging through the cold with his hands tucked as far into his pockets as they would go in an attempt to protect his wrists from the cold, “psychology is ‘ _important_ ’ for a business man to understand. Because I’m Uther Pendragon and I read an article on it and now I’m an _expert_.”

Oh, the things he would say to his father if he had the chance. This was all his fault. 

Arthur changed course from his bee-line toward the parking lot, veering off toward the Dragon’s Den Cafe. He deserved to get _something_ out of this damned fiasco. 

He stepped through the door, the bell above it chiming merrily. The barista looked up from the book he was reading to greet Arthur with a smile. The cafe was completely empty, the tables shone as if they’d already been cleaned ten times over.

“What can I do for you today?” the barista asked, standing up from his seat and setting the book aside.

Arthur glanced over the menu, even though he already knew his order. “Yeah, I’ll take a grande white chocolate mocha with a shot of caramel. Extra whip.”

The barista nodded, typing the order into the register, “Coming right up. Your total’s gonna be four seventy.”

While Arthur grabbed his wallet, the barista grabbed a cup and a sharpie to write on it, only to stop suddenly and look up.

“Hold on, actually…” the barista said, turning suddenly and ducking to check below the counter for something. 

Arthur raised his eyebrows, watching with vague interest as the towering barista all but disappeared under the counter, digging through bottles and supplies. 

When the barista popped his head up over the counter once more, he had an apologetic sort of frown on his face. He clambered to his feet, explaining quickly, “I’m so sorry, we’re actually _completely_ out of white chocolate right now,” he straightened his apron, explaining quickly, “We were supposed to get an order today and it hasn’t come in yet. I can make you a regular mocha at half price…”

Arthur nodded soberly, though he cracked a half-smile for the barista’s benefit, “That’ll be fine,” he said. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at this point. Clearly, this day was just _cursed_. Absolutely terrific. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! ^_^' I will hopefully back with another update in another month!??! (I love this fic, and I always love writing chapters for it, I HOPE to have enough time to iron something out for next month!!!)  
> I appreciate all who've stuck with the fic, despite lots of waiting around and I just THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for all the kudos and comments, it means so much!! :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, the first day of psychology class could have gone better...  
> Merlin wants to disappear. Preferably forever. Maybe just become invisible?  
> Arthur would like to find whichever god or universal force that has been meddling in his life and give it a piece of his mind. Or a good punch in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh, hooty hoo, friends~  
> So, yes, I am not dead. And, no, this fic has not been abandoned. I've just?? Been real busy?? Idk, but I AM real sorry about the wait!! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was a TON of fun to write. ^_^

The weather was getting worse, or at least Merlin thought so. It was most definitely autumn now, the last of summer’s lingering warmth had left and he was certain that his hands would never be warm again, even as he stuffed them deep into the pockets of his coat. How could he still be cold? He felt like he was wearing half of his closet in layers.

Nevertheless, he trudged across CU’s campus, a crumpled visitor’s map stuffed into one of his pockets as he dodged through students on his way across one of the _many_ cobblestoned yards (trying his best not to look as lost as he felt). 

Kilgharrah had sent out an email the week before to inform his students that, due to a scheduling conflict on his part, their first class session was going to be at Camelot U, not PCC. There had been information about a carpool system for students who didn’t have a means to get to the larger campus, but Merlin had opted to drive in with Gwen, instead, since she had her first class that morning.

Riding with Gwen that morning was the best thing that could have happened, actually. Merlin wanted to keep her from getting too anxious about her first official day, since she had been nervous about attending classes at CU ever since she’d gotten her scholarship. (Despite Merlin and Gwaine’s assurances that she had absolutely nothing to worry about, since she was more than ready for the program she was entering. It was all about fashion design and sewing and all the things she was _really good at already_. As far as Merlin and Gwaine were concerned, there was no way she could fail.)

As Merlin dodged around another group of students, he contemplated grabbing out his map and consulting it again. He was somewhat sure that he was moving in the right direction, but all the buildings looked the same. 

“Merlin!” came a shout from behind him.

He turned to see Gwaine jogging towards him, a pizza box in one hand, with his backpack slung over one shoulder.

Merlin smiled, “Is that your breakfast?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the pizza box. It was just past nine in the morning, he couldn’t fathom why Gwaine would be eating such a thing.

“It’s most important meal of the day, Merlin,” Gwaine said, winking cheekily and opening the box to grab a half-eaten slice before he continued, “You’re heading to your class, right?”

“Yeah, at least I’m supposed to be,” Merlin laughed, “I’m having trouble finding the right building, it’s in Avalon Hall…” 

Gwaine nodded, “Oh, yeah, c’mon,” he took a large bite of pizza and nodded at one of the branching paths ahead, “I’ll show ya,” he said, his mouth full.

Merlin followed his flatmate’s lead. “What classes do you have today, anyway?” he asked.

Gwaine swallowed his bite of pizza before responding, “I’ve got molecular biology in a little while, then I get to head to my maths class.”

“Everyone’s favorite headache,” Merlin chuckled.

“Yeah, it is,” Gwaine mumbled, rolling his eyes, “If I had known about all the math it takes to become a zoologist I probably would have left it in peace.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Merlin said, smiling.

Gwaine laughed, “Yeah. Or I’ll be an extremely over-qualified bartender.”

Merlin snorted, “Gwen would kill you.”

“Oh, probably,” Gwaine said, smiling lazily as he walked. He wasn’t even wearing that much of a jacket, but he looked perfectly comfortable, even with the gray sky and the chill of the wind. 

Merlin envied his resolve against cold weather and reached up to adjust his own scarf. “You going straight home after you finish classes, or were you planning on sticking around and studying?” he asked.

Gwaine shrugged, “I won’t have any homework, unless my teachers are real assholes. I’ll probably just head home,” he raised his eyebrows, “Any preferences for dinner?”

Merlin laughed, “Anything’s fine with me. And I think Gwen will be glad of a break from cooking.”

Gwaine grinned, “Curry’s fine, then?”

Merlin nodded, “Absolutely,” he may or may not have a weakness for Gwaine’s particular vegetarian curry recipe. It was _really_ good.

“It’s a plan, then, and,” Gwaine bit his lip and steered his way to the door of a large brick building, “right on schedule, here we are, Avalon Hall.”

Gwaine, after holding the door for Merlin, followed the photographer up the stairs. Out of vague curiosity, Merlin asked, “So what time is your molecular biology class?”

“Nine thirty,” Gwaine answered casually, walking beside Merlin as if this was nothing of note.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, “Gwaine…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s twenty-five minutes past nine,” Merlin said slowly.

“Yep,” Gwaine said, with a smile.

Merlin laughed in disbelief, “ _Gwaine_ , it’s your first day, you can’t skip out already!”

Gwaine rolled his eyes, turning to look at Merlin as they slowed to a stop outside Merlin’s classroom. “I’m not _skipping_ ,” he said, “I was walking you to your class like a damn gentleman, Merlin.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Get to class, please,” he said, laughing.

Gwaine tossed Merlin a quick wink, blowing him a sarcastic kiss as he said, in a sickeningly sweet tone, “I’ll see ya at home, babe!”

“Bye, honey!” Merlin called back, still laughing and shaking his head. He walked into the class and took his seat in the fourth row. A lot of seats were already taken, but Merlin managed to snag one with empty seats on either side of it. 

The last thing he needed was annoying classmates sitting near him.

****

Arthur had sworn to himself that he would never _ever_ take a class before ten in the morning. It just wasn’t practical to take a class any earlier than that. 

The psych class that his father had signed him up for was at nine thirty in the morning. 

It was like this entire class was created to inconvenience Arthur specifically. It was the thorn in his side that he couldn’t get away from.

And it was _absolutely_ going to be nothing but trouble for the rest of the quarter, he was certain. After things go wrong so consistently, there is simply no saving it. 

It was at a couple minutes past the “official” start of class when Arthur wandered in, his eyes barely looking around as he made a direct path for the back row. Kilgharrah was standing at the front of the room, a stack of papers in his hands which he was just starting to hand out to the first row.

Arthur sat down, tossing his backpack into the seat beside him, and grabbed out his phone. He wouldn’t bother with a notebook yet. It wasn’t like there was anything important said on the very first day of class, anyway.

***

Merlin was melting into his chair and stealing short glances over his shoulder at where the blond Pendragon prat had taken his seat.

_What the hell_? But, really… what the _hell_?

What was Arthur doing here? This… this was a community college class. He must have the wrong classroom…

Unless _Merlin_ had the wrong classroom. 

Grabbing out his phone and opening his emails, it didn’t take Merlin long to find the one Kilgharrah had sent out just a few days before. He read the room number and class time carefully.

No. No, he had the right classroom. So it must be Arthur’s mistake. 

Merlin let out a short breath, making the decision to ignore anything that wasn’t psychology related. He needed to pass this class, it wasn’t his fault that Arthur was mistaken.

He smiled as the person next to him leaned over to give him the class handout, nodding his thanks before he took one and passed it along to the next person.

Kilgharrah stood at the front of the room, surveying the gathered students with something like satisfaction, his eyes bright behind his wire-rimmed glasses, “Does everyone have the syllabus handout? Raise your hand if you need one.”

There was a soft murmuring of assent and someone walked up to the front with a stack of extra syllabi. 

Kilgharrah nodded once, thanking the student before saying, “I suppose now we can begin. I want each of you to first of all take a look around the room.”

Merlin ducked his head, focusing his gaze to the far end of the room so that only the back of his head faced Arthur’s direction. Just in case. He wasn’t sure how Arthur was even still _here_ , he had to have realized by looking at the syllabus that he was in the wrong class, right?

“All around you are unique individuals, each possessing their own views, backgrounds, and experiences,” Kilgharrah continued, leaning back on his desk with arms crossed, “Every one of us is surrounded by uniqueness every day, though we are at almost all times only aware of our own journeys, our own paths. You could not know a person’s nature by sight alone. And it is an awareness of the individuality around us which I hope to instill in each and every one of you by the time this class has finished.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows, smiling just barely down at his notebook, where he had “Psych 101” scrawled across the top of the paper along with the date. An awareness of all of humanity seemed a bit of a tall order for intro psychology students, but he wasn’t going to point that out to anyone, especially not Kilgharrah. He knew the old dragon would just laugh, or otherwise stay serious and say something about the impatience of youth. 

“For instance,” said Kilgharrah, stepping forward to walk to one side of the classroom, “over here in this row we have a random grouping of students,” he gestured at the front row before him, “if you could please, say your names and what you intend to major in.”

The first young woman in the row spoke up, saying, “Maisie Barrett, engineering.”

And the next, “Kelsey Yang, english literature.”

“I’m Zac Wilkinson, um, I’m majoring in business with a minor in statistical economics.”

Merlin frowned, looking over suddenly at the guy in the front row who had just introduced himself.

That wasn’t a major that Pendragon Community College offered. At least not the last time Merlin had checked. (Though maybe they were adding new majors?)

“Sylvia Vazquez, I’m also majoring in english lit,” the last student in the row said.

Kilgharrah smiled, “And what do you plan to do with your degree, Sylvia?”

She shrugged, “I’m minoring in history, I’d like to work with old and rare books somehow, I’m not sure.”

“And what about you, Kelsey?” Kilgharrah asked, turning to address the other young woman.

“I want to teach writing, I think,” she said.

Kilgharrah practically beamed, “You’ll both do well, I’m sure. Now,” he walked back to the middle to address the whole class, “as you can all see, even among those walking the same journey academically, there are worlds of possibilities. Some of you may have taken note of the larger than average class size, perhaps?”

Merlin glanced around, frowning. He _supposed_ the room was bigger than ones he’d normally been in for his classes at PCC, but he had assumed that was just the larger campus, not a larger class.

“In light of what we were just talking about, I would dare categorize the students in this room under two broad spectrums,” Kilgharrah continued, “Those who attend Pendragon Community College and those who attend Camelot University.”

Merlin bit his lip, not daring to turn around. _That_ was why Arthur was here.

“I’ve elected this quarter to combine the two classes across campuses…”

_Oh no._

_Ooooh, no._

“...transportation to and from the PCC campus will continue to be provided, of course. By the end of class today I will be assigning you all into groups of two or three so that there is one student from PCC and one from CU in each…”

He took a breath. Of fucking course. This was… _perfect_. Fantastic. Now not only was he stuck in a class with his nosy academic advisor, but also the guy who thought Merlin was _actively stalking_ him. 

If he just grabbed his stuff and left right now no one would notice, right? He could just drop this class, right?

Except that, thanks to his _fantastic_ academic advisor, he had already mapped out the other classes he needed to take to graduate on time.

And if he dropped this class, it brought his credits level below that of a full-time student… and the financial scholarship he was on _required_ that. Goodbye money. 

If he just…

Hit his head on this desk…

That could be fine, right?

(He wasn’t going to do that, but, as Gwaine always said, “just reminding myself of my options”.)

“...if you have any questions about transportation, please speak to me after class. Right now I would like to review that syllabus. On page one…”

Kilgharrah continued and Merlin followed along in a daze. He didn’t want to look back, but he could feel a sort of weight in the bottom of his stomach. 

What would the chances of being put in a group with Arthur even _be_? One in forty? In fifty? He had nothing to worry about.

(And yet worry persisted.)

***

Arthur texted his way through most of the class period (Morgana was telling him about her morning coffee meeting with one of her friends). It wasn’t until Kilgharrah said he was going to assign them their group partners that Arthur really paid attention.

“Take one piece of paper from the stack marked for your school, don’t look at what is written on the other side until everyone has theirs,” Kilgharrah instructed, passing a handful of notecard-sized papers to each row. He smiled in a joking way, “And no trading.”

Arthur was one of the last to get his, by virtue of his back-row seating. He nodded his thanks and, as Kilgharrah started walking back to the front of the room, flipped over the card to check the number.

Twelve. Nice round number.

“Some of you will have been put into groups with two others, so hold up your number and look carefully around for your group. No need to move closer to one another just yet, however, as I have a quick assignment beforehand,” Kilgharrah said.

Arthur sighed, lifting his card and letting his eyes trail around the room for a match.

***

Merlin was very certain that he was cursed. 

The number twelve stared up at him from the card in his hands. It was the same number on the paper currently held aimlessly above the head of a certain Arthur Pendragon.

_Shit_.

Merlin closed his eyes for a moment, considering trying to quietly swap numbers with the person sitting beside him. Kilgharrah was standing at the front, though, and Merlin was almost certain that the old dragon would _somehow_ see the trade.

Letting out a terse breath, Merlin lifted his number over his head and braced himself. He didn’t look back. He didn’t dare.

Well, maybe this would be bad enough that _Arthur_ would drop the class, right?

***

Arthur stared across the room.

No, no, no, this wasn’t happening.

His stalker. His gossip blogger. Was in the room. And was holding up the number twelve, the boldfaced font as clear as day.

His jaw tightened and he was almost certain that he was scowling, now. And with good reason.

If Blogger was his partner… that meant that he wasn’t even a student of CU. 

What the _hell_ had he been doing on the campus? 

(Arthur _knew_ full well why he had been on the campus, actually. Stalking.)

Ooooh, no, this wasn’t going to happen. Arthur was going to put a stop to this.

“Have you all found your partners?” Kilgharrah asked.

There was a murmured assent throughout the class. Arthur didn’t join in, just kept his eyes set firmly on Blogger. (His mind was still churning over all the pieces that were falling into place.)

“Excellent, now I want you each to grab a sheet of paper and write down, in three words, your first impression of your groupmate. Or groupmate _s_ , I suppose, in the case of those with three to their group,” Kilgharrah smiled, “I’ll give you five minutes. I don’t want you to think about it too heavily, just give the three words off the top of your head. And I don’t want any names on these, all anonymous, if you please.”

Arthur grabbed a paper.

Oh, he had three words, alright.

***

Prat. Ass. Rich boy. 

Well, that was four words.

And Merlin knew if he put down _any_ of those, he’d be plagued by guilt for the rest of time for making Kilgharrah read them. 

“Glaring at me” could be all three.

However, he opted for some that were less… opinionated.

Blond. Bored. 

He bit his lip, reaching for another word (“selfish” and “impolite” can to mind, but he tossed those out immediately).

Wealthy. That was a good, neutral sentiment, right?

***

Arthur barely took his eyes off of Blogger as he handed his sheet of paper over to Kilgharrah.

“First impressions are a hell of a thing,” Kilgharrah was saying, as he collected papers and walked back to the front of the room, “and in these last few minutes of class I want to read a few of your own first impressions back to you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, tossing his notebook and pen back into his backpack. There was only about five minutes left in class, he just wanted this to be over so he could go talk to Professor Kilgharrah and get out of this nightmare partnership. 

“Here’s an interesting one,” Kilgharrah said, “we have ‘friendly, tattooed, and fashionable’,” he flipped to the next page, “We have here a ‘artistic, smiley, and likeable’,” he laughed as he went to another page, “This one just says ‘english lit major’, so someone was listening earlier in class, at least.” 

There was scattered laughter from the class.

“Now, here,” Kilgharrah frowned, reading the next one, “we have ‘blond, bored, and wealthy’,” he looked up, “perhaps someone thinks their partner needs to pay attention better.”

More laughter, but Arthur narrowed his eyes, looking at Blogger.

Oh, yeah, he was turning red, although he laughed along with everyone else.

Arthur pursed his lips. The description sounded like the things Blogger had been saying to Arthur the last time they had bumped into each other.

A few more mundane descriptions passed, and Arthur watched the clock almost as carefully as he watched Blogger.

Kilgharrah laughed suddenly, looking around, “I’m not sure if this one is good or bad, but all it says is, ‘hipster gossip blogger’,” the professor shrugged, still chuckling, “I suppose that depends on your opinion of hipsters and bloggers.”

Arthur smiled with the slightest bit of triumph as Blogger’s face turned redder than before and he _finally_ turned back to glance at Arthur, after ignoring him for so long. Arthur made sure to meet Blogger’s eyes directly in challenge, raising his eyebrows critically.

Blogger looked away again just as the clock hit 10:30 and all the students who had been watching the time got to their feet.

“I will be seeing you all in three days, we meet again on Thursday, again, if you have any questions do not hesitate to ask me,” Kilgharrah was saying, speaking loudly over the sound of shuffling bags and the closing of notebooks and binders. “I suggest you trade contact information with your groupmates now, there’s a short questionnaire assignment which you will need to collaborate on posted in the online module!”

Arthur jumped to his feet, grabbing his bag and rushing to the front of the room where Kilgharrah was collecting his papers at the desk.

“Professor, I _need_ a different partner,” he said, leaning on the desk and speaking in a low voice.

Kilgharrah looked up, eyebrows raised, “Why do you say that?”

“I…” Arthur glanced over at Blogger (who was collecting his notebook and not looking, thankfully), “I think honestly that he might be stalking me.”

Kilgharrah’s eyebrows shot upwards even further, “Oh?”

“He’s been on this campus multiple times at the same time and location as me, and he doesn’t even _go_ here,” Arthur said quickly, “He was taking pictures of me the first time and the second time I ran into him was the same day that I went to… speak to you in your office.”

Kilgharrah nodded, but Arthur thought he saw a hint of amusement, “Who is your partner?”

Arthur nodded in Blogger’s direction, “The one there with the blue scarf, dark hair.”

Kilgharrah chuckled wryly, looking at Arthur and informing him, calmly, “That’s Merlin. The day you came to my office he had just finished a meeting with me.”

“But he doesn’t even go to CU, why was he here?” Arthur repeated the fact slowly.

“I’m his academic advisor, he needed my signature on a bit of paperwork and I happened to be at my Camelot University office, he said he would be able to come all the same,” Kilgharrah said smiling in amusement, “I cannot account for your first encounter with him, but I can tell you that Merlin is majoring in photographic journalism. It’s not uncommon to see him with a camera.”

Arthur couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He blinked, looking down, “All the same, I would feel more comfortable with someone I had never met before,” he said slowly.

Kilgharrah tilted his head to one side, “It doesn’t sound to me as if you’ve truly _met_ Merlin yet. Merely encountered him.” The professor paused a moment, considering, “I won’t switch you to a different group just yet. Complete the first couple of assignments. If your discomfort or the feeling that you’re being stalked persists, I’ll make the change.”

Arthur tightened his jaw, but nodded, “Fine.”

Kilgharrah leaned close, saying, “Remember that when harassment occurs, it’s usual to make a full report. If you feel you must, I will help you but…” he shrugged a little, “I don’t think Merlin could possibly mean you ill,” he held up a hand before Arthur could say anything, adding quickly, “But, again. I will help you should you feel it has come to that,” he let out a breath, “It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I have been wrong about someone’s character.”

Arthur nodded again, saying quietly, “Thanks,” before turning around. 

Merlin was standing in the aisleway a few feet away, having grabbed all his stuff and stood to walk out…

But, of course, he and Arthur still hadn’t exchanged contact information.

Merlin looked up, meeting Arthur’s eyes with trepidation as he moved closer.

“Ehm,” Merlin said, stopping in front of Arthur and speaking quickly, “so, email works fine for you?”

Arthur nodded curtly, “Yeah, sure.”

Merlin ducked his head, “Cool, yeah, ehm…” he pulled out his phone, and Arthur could see him open a notepad app.

“If you just wanted to…” Merlin offered the phone to Arthur, his sentence trailing off awkwardly.

Arthur “hmmph”ed and took the phone, typing his school email (no, he wasn’t going to give this guy his personal email, thank you very much) as quickly as he could.

“Look, I’m… sorry about how things went last time we…” Merlin said slowly.

Arthur looked up, handing the phone back, “Just forget it.”

Merlin smiled a little, nodding as he took the phone, “Right…” he said slowly, looking Arthur up and down.

“What?” Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I just,” Merlin shrugged, “didn’t imagine you’d be so calm.”

Arthur shook his head, “Well, I don’t imagine you know me as well as you think,” he looked the other up and down, for a moment reconsidering what he wanted to say. 

“Later, hipster,” Arthur said darkly, turning away and marching out the door before Merlin had a chance to respond.

This was going to be a hell of a class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!! Shoutout to my best friend, who sparked this madness in the first place, and who graciously beta reads for me ^_^ I LOVE YOU, YOU ELIJAH WOOD IMPERSONATOR, YOU.  
> All the comments for this fic have been WONDERFUL to read, and I just wanna especially thank those who have taken the time to write!!  
> ANnnnnnd the next chapter will be updated *distant crashing noises* *a large pot of soup is thrown out a window* yeeeaaaahhh... (HOPEFULLY NOT TOO LONG??? WE'LL SEE.)


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